Dear Body,
When you were only 8 years old, you were labelled 'fat'. You didn't fully understand what that even meant at the time, but soon realised it meant being pointed at by kids in your school while they laughed at you.
When you were 10, you were covered in XL t-shirts when you went to the playground.
When you were 13, the boy you had a crush on, along with his friends, laughed at you. How dare you, fat and insignificant, harbour feelings for a boy so good-looking and popular? The horror of it all!
When you were 14, you stopped eating your lunches in school. You simply gave them away to a friend. Food was the enemy.
When you were 15, you were thin. And suddenly, you were valid.
When you were 16, boys started telling you they had crushes on you. The same boys who laughed at you 3 years ago.
When you were 17, you started cinching your belt tighter. That kept the hunger away.
When you were 19, you read an article that said smoking made you thin. You bought a whole pack the very same day.
When you were 20, people wouldn't believe you were a dancer's body, because you "didn't look like it".
When you were 28, you got sick. Really sick. And the weight came back. It made me hate you again.
When you were 30, you were tired and depressed. You hated everything. And I still hated you.
When you were 31, a group of 250 people online helped you feel better about yourself. And a genius doctor helped cure you. You found freedom in a 1-inch scar.
And when you turned 32, I finally hugged you and told you I loved you.
